The branch of the family we don't talk about
by The Whiterose Chronicals
Summary: Walter knew his brother was a bad egg before he left ABQ years ago. When his nephew comes knocking at his door years later calling for blood, Walter doesn't know what to do, the nephew takes matters into his own hands whilst simultaneously taking odd jobs from Mike and from Gus himself. Problems arise, can they be solved? Rated M for graphic imagery and explicit themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Breaking bad - The Branch Of The Family We Don't Talk About.**

 **C1 - My Name Is Jason White**

 **Jason White's P.O.V**

My name is Jason White, and I have a pretty screwed up family. Of course, I never figured that out until March 2014. On the Fifth of November -my birthday- 2011, my father killed my mother in an attempt to kill me in a car crash. The past four years I had to find my way back onto the island of Tsun, a save haven for supernatural freaks like myself and build up my arsenal of knowledge and weapons to go on the hunt for Angel White.

I never knew about the White family in Albuquerque, that was up until I looked through some of Angel's old documents and found a phone number. When traced, I found an address in the US where Walter White lived. Walter was supposedly my uncle of all things, a chemist according to the records working with a production company.

What I found when I did a little bit of stalking was a man, devoid of common sense, suffering with terminal cancer and had a strange penchant for going too and from a large industrial laundry building. I didn't believe I found the right man until I saw him enter the address that the phone number was linked to.

There I was, waiting in the front seat of a car that cost $120 that hadn't been cleaned in 5 years, hoping that I'd found the right man and hadn't wasted 4 days chasing a dead lead. However, I was willing to do anything to find Angel, even if it meant hunting him down to Alaska.

Even if Walter knew nothing about Angel, I had to try, for the sake of Mom's tortured soul, it was worth it.

I took a breath of stale air from the car to steel my nerves, hating every second I was in the damned thing. Eventually I formed the courage to lift the dossier from the passenger foot well and climb out of the black Honda Accord.

After shutting the car door and locking it, I patted myself down to make sure that I was still carrying my Browning Hi Power just in case. It had become a necessity in those days to carry a pistol, too many people wanted my head on a stake for me to not carry the polished Nine-Millimeter around.

I reached into my leather vest and took out the badge that the NSA had given me, it was a pardon in a way. Police had no power over me with the badge as it was a right of passage from Tsun to the US. That was more useful than the Hi Power as I didn't need to kill anyone to be left alone, I would have to flash it at a cop and they'd forget about me. The idea was it was a concealed carry permit and a drivers license in one, kind of like a VIP badge. No agency could fuck with me so long as I had the badge.

I switched it to the pocket of my black jeans as I began walking towards the front door of Walter White's house. It was at that point that something hit me, something that should have been at the front of my mind the entire time.

I was 15 and 5ft 2" meaning he would never take me seriously, but that was why I had the dossier. It was also why I had a white knuckle grip on the damned thing, losing it would mean having to start from square one with my hunt.

My mind cleared when I got to the front door, a stained wooden door with a simple Yale lock. Easy to pick, hard to leave a trace behind, something that I took a mental note of when I knocked on the door.

After three swift knocks, I looked at the alarm box above the door. It was made by an old company that had gone out of business years ago, another easy bypass to get in the house. It was a wonder they never had a break in, however based on the neighborhood, no-one really got robbed anyway.

So in short, I could easily break into the house at a later date and steal some documents if he had them and at the lowest chance of being shot of any robbery I'd done before.

My train of thought was broken by the wooden door opening pretty quickly. Walter White was stood there.

Beige was the word to describe him up close, everything about him just screamed retirement, even if his activities didn't.

"Yes?" He asked calmly, even though I could see he was flustered. His mouth hung open slightly as though I'd caught him in the middle of something.

"Walter White?" I asked.

"Who's asking?" He stayed calm.

"...Jason White, Angel's son." I hesitated, Angel's name usually struck fear into those who knew him, his brother would no doubt be afraid.

The guy looked at me closely, he took in the detail of my face, the feint scar across my left eye and right side of my jaw. More so, he took in my blue eyes, realised that something was wrong.

"Angel and his wife didn't have blue eyes." He still looked at me.

"It's possible, if you were a biologist instead of a chemist you might know that." I spoke flippantly.

"How did you know I'm a chemist?" He narrowed his eyes slightly behind the large wire framed glasses.

"I've been following you for some time now. I was hoping that you could give me some information about Angel." I asked politely.

He looked at me in fear, as though I knew something I shouldn't. That sparked something in me, the smell on his clothes gave it away. I'd destroyed more than enough of them to know what a meth lab smelt like.

"Go, before I call the police." He snapped before he tried to close the door.

I put my boot in the way to stop the door slamming shut. He tried but he couldn't close the door any harder against my foot.

"Mr White, if anyone should call the police it would be me." I gave him my most intimidating look, the kind that told people you had dirt on them that they themselves didn't know about.

He received my message and slowly he opened the door and invited me into his home. I stepped in, giving Walter clearance to shut the door again.

"What do you know?" He asked as calmly as an accused man could.

"That your clothes smell like a..." I caught myself, before I realised that even though no-one else was in the house, wire taps could easily be placed.

"Lab." I finished, feeling exposed.

Walter looked defeated, as if I'd crashed his whole deal on top of his head.

"Don't worry, we're both criminals then." I lightened up, patting his arm.

Walter nodded, figuring if I knew something I would have already gone to the DEA. If I wanted to do that, I would have done it as soon as he'd given me what he knew about Angel.

He moved from the front door and walked over to the kitchen.

"Do you take coffee or is it tea?" He joked, the shape of my eyes gave away my Chinese heritage.

"Neither, thank you." I followed him into his kitchen.

We sat down at the table in the kitchen, he had many papers spread out all over the table.

Tests...

Everyone hates tests...

"Nice to know that someone in the family uses science for good." I joked, noting that everything was chemistry related.

"What do you mean by that, what's Angel been doing?" Walt asked, seeming concerned.

"You haven't heard?" I wondered, realising that it was dumb question to ask.

Walter shook his head, waiting for me to give him some information.

"Angel..." I began, not knowing how to phrase his path of destruction.

"He killed Mom in 2011, but he was trying to kill me." I began.

Walter looked sympathetically at me, not what I needed at that time.

"Since then he's found his way to weave himself into my life and rip it apart bit by bit... I bet he never told you about his third did he?" I trailed away.

"Yes, he named him Luke didn't he?" Walt asked.

I nodded in an attempt to get him to go on.

"I remember he brought him here... what was it... 10 years ago? Only a baby then, he had the greenest eyes I've ever seen and a head full of hair. Almost makes me jealous." Walter smiled as he recollected the time Angel visited him.

Instantly I reached into the file and pulled out a file I named 'rebirth' and found a picture of Luke to give to Walt.

"That's him there." I spoke kindly, not happy about what I had to say next.

Walt took the photo and inspected it, smiling at Luke's confused face. Luke had never seen a camera before then, that was his 10th birthday.

"Huh... Look at that... Did Angel do that?" Walt showed me the photo and pointed at Luke's tattooed skin.

"No." I sighed, pulling my own sleeves back.

Walter gazed at my scarred wrists more than he did my tattoos, but he saw them nevertheless.

"It's a natural process, Mom's genes in all of us." I explained.

Walter didn't understand, but that was his human side. Even I didn't know why they were there, they burned themselves into my skin one day as bands. After going back to my birthplace and mother's tribe, they'd contorted into flames on my left arm and mountains on my right. Mine were blue whereas Luke's were green, like his eyes.

I then took out the photos of an underground testing facility that Angel had built with his company's billions of dollars and slid them to Walter.

"That's the place Luke spent nine years of his life. Courtesy of Angel." I sighed.

Again, Walt inspected the photos with further, shocked at the news.

"Why?" He asked.

"So he could figure out what gives Luke and I our powers." I explained as I rolled my sleeves down.

"What powers?" Walt scoffed.

The steaming cup of coffee on the table was a good example, something easy and not to taxing on my system.

"Put your finger in this." I ordered.

Walt just looked at me before he put his palm on the side of the cup and recoiled slightly.

"It's still hot, why?" He asked.

Before I answered, I picked the cup up with my right hand and thought of freezing the steaming hot coffee. Two seconds later, it was frozen solid. Walter didn't know what I'd done so I put the cup over my head and tried to pour it all over myself which wouldn't happen anyway. It didn't stop Walter raising his voice in disagreement as I did so.

"I can freeze things and set them on fire if I had to." I set the cup back down.

"Luke can... Well, Luke can move things with his mind." I sat back in the chair as I explained.

He picked up the cup, his hand shaking as he did..

"He was here." He put the cup back down firmly.

"The house?" I wondered.

Walt shook his head and stared at his frozen coffee again.

"No, he came to the school where I work. That's all I know." He looked me in the eyes.

I'd been lied to most my life, I didn't need Walt doing it. The benefit of working for lairs

"Walt, I work for a mafia. I can smell bullshit before you even say it. What did he want?" I lowered my voice as I stood up.

Walt looked outside the window, he too lowered his voice and his volume.

"He came close to me, trying to blackmail my family and I."

The front door opened, shocking the both of us. Quickly I defrosted the cup of coffee before they saw it and sussed something. A young blonde woman and a disabled kid walked through the door. I didn't want to get too attached to the extended family, but it looked as if it was too late.

"Walte- Who's this?" She asked, looking as if I'd just been caught drinking Walter's blood or something.

"Skyler, this is my nephew. He came down from..." He turned to me.

"Tsun Island, J White." I introduced myself, nodding towards my 'aunt' and cousin.

She looked at me as if she was trying to find something that wasn't on display, almost as if she was trying to see into my soul or something. My cousin was on crutches, my first guess was cerebal paulsy but it looked less damaging so Aspergers was a better guess.

"You know my dad?" He asked.

"Yes, he's my uncle." I explained again kindly.

"My name's Walter Jr, nice to meet you." He extended a shaky hand which I took to shake.

Skyler walked over to us to see that she had missed something in her original staring phase.

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?" She saw the scar across my eye, she seemed to be more sensative to things like this.

"Let's just say my dad wasn't very nice. It's why I came here, I thought Walter would know where he is." I explained, not reveailing the real reason I was looking for Dad.

"Angel was like that? I didn't know that." Walter began

"He was, still is too from what I've seen. He's taken quite a chunck out of my life, all I want is to find him so that he can tell me why he did these things to me." I was covering my tracks, doing my best to keep it clean.

"You're Walt's nephew? That means you're Junior's cousin right?" She began looking towards Junior.

In Junior I began to see signs of Asperger's syndrome, the way his lips moved and how his facial structure didn't really match his parents' structures. We were related and it wasn't because of his condition that I didn't want much to do with them, it was my condition.

"Yes. I wouldn't get too aquainted though." I started, but was distracted by the sound of engines outside.

"Why's that?" Junior interuptted me.

"Because I work with people that would put holes in people I care about." I explained as I began to look out the window for the sound of engines.

The DEA were here, they'd come to see what I was doing. The doors opened, a big bald fuck got out the car and began walking towards the house. I began looking in the back of my mind for his name. It began to frustrate me to no end.

"Who is that?" I sighed, narrowing my eyes as he got close.

"Hank?" Walter looked out too.

He'd got to the door, then opened it and walked in. His hands drew towards his belt, the holster on it was full. A Glock 17 most likely, my mind raced towards my own pistol in my shoulder holster. I would have been able to do them in quickly enough, the issue would come with the paper work and making it look as though they were coming after me. I focused on the fat man, ignoring his partner.

"Well, ain't you a persistent son of a bitch?" Hank nodded towards me, trying to make a joke.

"If it isn't the man who tried to stop my access to the US." I clenched my fists.

"You realise that I can throw your ass off the US before you can say 'Damn that meddling Schrader' eh?." He began to threaten me.

"NSA trumps DEA Schrader, I hope you aren't wasting time checking up on me." I almost spat venom at the prick, thinking he was high and mighty.

"No, and it's bullshit. No way you got approval from the NSA" Hank's partner chipped in.

I chuckled lightly.

"Bullshit?" I asked.

I reached into my pocket which got Hank to draw his Glock and point it at my chest. As I retrieved my hand, he lowered the pistol as he noticed the badge he attempted to deny me.

"Nope, it's there. All nice and shiny brass with that thick black leather... Looks legit." I smiled.

"Hank?" His partner asked.

Hank holstered up, narrowing his eyes at me. He shook his head, making his partner take his hand off his pistol.

"Well, seems I'm exceeding my welcome a bit." I sighed, collecting the photos quickly and putting them back in the dossier.

Before I exited the house, I turned to Walt and his family.

"Maybe we can talk when a Government agent isn't in the room, maybe get to know my family a little." I smiled.

As I turned, I waited for Hank and his partner to stop blocking the door and allow me to walk out. When they did, I gave them a little something for them to remember me by.

"See you around, Agents." I chuckled as I walked away.

 **Walter**

That was the first time I'd met Angel's son, what was strange was how calm he was around Hank. From what he said, he was just as much as a criminal as I was.

"I hate that kid..." Hank sighed the second Jason had closed the door.

"He's family though, right?" Junior began.

"Yes, he's distant Junior." I explained.

"Should we give him a chance?" He asked, looking around.

Hank laughed raucously.

"A chance? Kid, that is a hands down scumbag. He's an arms dealer, enforcer and owns strip clubs all over the place." Hank explained.

"Though to be fair, the way he handled the drugs trade over there was better than we've done." Steve chipped in.

Skyler looked shocked to say the least.

"He deals guns _and_ drugs?" She sighed exasperated.

Steve shook his head, realising he made a mistake.

"No, he stopped the drugs trade over on that freak show of an island. Apparently the people he works for think guns are better than drugs, although weed's still legal. Haven't had a shooting over there since the takeover though." Steve explained as Hank walked over to the kitchen table, looking at the photo of Luke and Jason that he'd left behind.

As he looked at it, he noticed the frost on the coffee cup.

"No fucking way." He snapped as he put his finger in the cup.

"Hank." Skyler sighed as he still hadn't stopped swearing around Junior.

"No Sky, look at this. There's no way that he comes here and he does this, I mean... It's impossible right? How can you freeze something just by touching it. Even that dumbass at the NSA didn't believe it, no he does it here?" Hank was surprisingly upset about Jason's powers.

The house was in a state of shock, silence rang throughout the halls.

"Uh, Hank. Do you mind if I have that back?" I asked for the picture.

"Huh? Oh, sure. Don't know why though, probably going to die soon anyway. Shot by some gang banger he pissed off." He almost laughed.

From what Hank was saying, Jason was more of a criminal than I was. Although, he wasn't going be earning anywhere near as much money as I had made in a month. The calm demeanor that Jason had told me that he believed what he was doing was legal. However, that badge told an even bigger story, one that could destroy my work.

Jason had contacts in the Government.

Hours later it was time to go to work, after making sure that Hank had not followed me, I went to the laundromat and went straight down to the lab. Rushing through the doors, I found Jesse breaking the last batch we cooked. I didn't start the next batch, I waited for him to say something before I actually spoke first.

"What? You've been staring at me for like an hour Mr White." He complained as he usually did.

"I think there could be a problem, nothing too worrying, but enough to think about." I explained the new situation as best I could in short terms.

Jesse just looked at me, supposedly worrying about my mental health.

"My nephew came to see me today, he's kind of like us. He's an arms dealer." I almost chuckled at the sentence. Knowing what Jason looked like, it was hard to see him as a hardened criminal.

As soon as I said 'arms dealer' Jesse almost fell over in shock.

"What?" Jesse began to look concerned.

"He says he came out here to look for his father, he knew the moment he got close to me. He said he could smell the lab on me or something like that. Either way, he knows I'm in the meth business." I went into more detail.

"How... Don't you cover yourself in like, disinfectant when you get home?" Jesse was joking, or at least I hoped.

"He said something along the lines of 'blowing enough up' to know what it smells like." I explained further.

"Dude, if he's a criminal like that, why would he rat us out? All he has is the smell of chemicals, other than that he's got nothing. Not even Saul would go for that." Jesse sighed reaching for the cleaning supplies.

He had a point, even if Jason had come to rat me out, he needed stronger evidence. I had to be careful or else the whole operation could come down on my head.

 **Jason**

When I was done with the White residence, I hit my head on the steering wheel. Enough times to start hurt, of course this wasn't without cause. I knew Walter was full of shit, Angel wouldn't have confronted him at school. Of course, I figured that it wouldn't be right to phone his school to see if a man in a suit walked in the front door.

Tired, and pissed off, I drove to the motel and tried to get some sleep. As I walked into the motel room, the sounds of bongs being used in the room on the left and a prostitute doing her job in the right side room were blazing. Loud enough to hurt my ears, but I was used to those noises by now, however it didn't make me think sleep was any less worth the hassle.

After locking the door, I drew the curtains shut, put the Hi Power and badge on the table, took off my pants and vest and then collapsed into the bed. Instead of listening to next door's headboard hitting the wall and the occasional fake moan, I cast my mind away. Doing this allowed me to take in the sounds of the traffic outside, before long I was out of it.

I was as flat out at that point, dreaming about the best gun trade I'd ever done. Several small arms like pistols for a wide range of pump action shotguns, each and every one of them in pristine condition. I made a $40,000 profit on that deal seeing as the group of Cartel members I'd dealt with didn't seem to know much about the gun trade. Of course, once they found out that they'd been ripped off, they were like shooting fish in a barrel with the new fire power my group obtained.

Deals like that was what made the trade worth it, the action and danger of the job just seemed like the best thing in the world.

I was woken up by my phone ringing on the bedside table. I'd taken residence in an old manky motel room, it was good enough for what I needed. I picked up the phone and answered it.

"Hello." I spoke groggily.

"J, it's Mike. How'd it go?" Mike Ehrmantraut was on the other line, his gruff voice pretty much confirmed it was him.

Mike was a man recommended by members of the Mafia, people spoke of him like a ghost. He was _the_ guy, no-one else could do a job like he did it, hence the reason I did a deal with him. He helped me track Walter White, I helped him on two jobs.

"About as well as expected, guy can't lie for shit. You never told me he was a chef." I spoke in synonyms so if anyone was listening they wouldn't be able to decipher what I was saying.

"Best in the ABQ, so are we straight?" He asked.

"Yeah, where'd you want to meet?" I sat up, getting ready to leave.

"I'll come and pick you up, in fact I'm outside right now." He spoke before hanging up.

Worried, I got up and stood over by the window, pushing the blinds away slightly to see if I could find him. No such luck, but there was one thing I knew, I wasn't going to meet someone I'd only had phone contact with without my gun.

Quickly I pulled my jeans on along with my biker's vest, making sure to keep the shoulder holster out of sight. Before I left, I picked up my biker's vest, sunglasses, keys and then making sure the browning hi power was loaded and took a extra mag, placing it in the side of my boots as I pulled them on.

As I walked out, the sun blinded be before I could pull the glasses down. After locking the door, I looked out on the parking lot, realising that Mike could have been fucking with me, I pulled out my phone and redialed the number.

"What?" He asked as he answered.

"What do you mean 'what'? Where the fuck are you?" I called getting pissed.

"I can see you wearing that stupid vest, and the gun. I'm unarmed, so you'd better get rid of it before we leave." He sighed before hanging up again.

"Fucker." I sighed, opening the door and throwing the shoulder holster inside along with the magazine before shutting the door and locking it again.

I then walked down the stairs to the parking lot, scanning the area looking for someone who looked like Mike. Seconds later I noticed the car flicking it's lights at me. As I made my way over, I could see his face, scowling at me.

When I got in the car he looked to the side at me before even speaking.

"You know, if you'd brought that gun where we're headed, I would have shoved it up your ass and emptied it into your rectum." He threatened me.

"The only thing you know about me Mike is I know Walt. If you're the man I'm told you are, then you don't threaten without a reason. It's a stupid idea, so don't fucking threaten me again." I laid out a solid rule for him as I buckled my seat belt.

He just looked at me, the scowl staying as it was.

"Kind of hypocritical don't you think?" He raised his eyebrows.

Mike knew very little about me, as such he though he could .

"Remember in 2002 when there was those exiles? I was one of them, my family and me. Do you want to know why?" I returned the scowl.

He stayed silent.

"Look at these tattoos, just watch." I ordered.

He looked at my tattoos, just before they began to pulse with light.

"See that?" I smiled.

I began to summon ice using the water inside my body, a serrated knife formed in my hands. Frozen, it would hurt once inside a body.

"I can do that with any liquid, even in my own body. I can extract a liquid my body doesn't need inside it, like poison for example, the perfect way to smuggle it. As of right now all I've got is blood, water and waste. So you threatening me is a very stupid fucking idea, the only reason I carry a pistol is so that I blend in, that doesn't mean I can't or wont kill someone who get's in my way." I actually threatened him this time, making sure he got the message.

I absorbed the blade back inside my body, making sure I had the water inside me should I need to do it again.

Mike looked at me before he looked forward and began to drive.

"Do you need 13 shots?" He asked as he joined the main road.

"I can deal with 6 shots. 13 just makes it easier, less of a pain if I miss." I answered, missing my holster.

"You prefer revolvers?" I looked over at him.

"Ehhh... Whatever works." He sighed.

He was a revolver guy, I could tell by the car. Sure he'd been long after semi auto became standard issue, but he liked tradition. Keeping with the times and making sure he knew the weapon inside and out before he even picked it up.

"Smith and Wesson, a five shot?" I raised my eyebrows.

"What?" He sighed.

"Car's from the 70's right? Kept it up, same condition I mean it's almost like new. So you're a man of tradition. A cop around that time probobly carried a Smith revolver, maybe even a 1911. 70's era Smiths are usualy 6 shots and 357 mag. Knowing how to see someone carrying a firearm you know to carry slim guns so a 5 shot. A Smith so you don't have to re-learn cylider rotation... 5 shot Smith." I shrugged after explaining everything.

"Being a wise-ass doesn't suit you." Mike sighed.

I chuckled.

"We're kind of alike... Well, someways more than others you know... For one thing I can't break the ice for shit. I mean I just read you like an open book, threatened you with an ice blade and am still fucking talking." I shook my head, looking out of the window.

"I know who you are J. Did you honestly think I'd take a job to give you the address of Walter without knowing a thing about you? I know a lot about you." He looked at me.

He kept driving on, traffic was surprisingly lacking around the area.

"Those murders after your kidnapping, the revolution on the island, the attack on the monks, the-" He trailed on.

"Stop." I growled.

"You don't need to give me a role call of all the fuck ups in my life, I know them well seeing as I was there. Just take me where we're headed, if you want a conversation then consider not bringing up a violent past Mike." I sighed, focusing on the road outside.

And so he did, not saying another word before we reached a large industrial sized laundry. If this was where the lab was, they had a good idea, the fumes would blend into the steam and no-one would suspect a thing. Mike got out of the car signaling me to do the same, he lead me into the laundry, through a lot of steam and migrant workers towards a large washing machine.

With his head, he signaled for me to look away, which I did, seconds later he patted my shoulder to get me to follow him down stairs leading into darkness before a dim red light began to shine, surprisingly there was a door which Mike had to open for me.

As we walked inside, my eyes opened as wide as they had ever opened before. The biggest meth lab that I'd ever seen in my life as sat in the center of the room, gleaming with brushed stainless steel.

This was where Walt worked, how could I tell?

"Mike? I thought I told you I needed Jesse today." Walt's voice rang out.

He walked out into a clearing so he could see us. His eyes fixed on me, shock throughout his body. There was an odor around the lab, the same one that I could smell on Walter.

"Well... I though you were a chef, didn't think it was this big on an operation though." I chuckled.

He stared at me, his mouth hanging open again. He began to walk towards the stairs, determination flowing through him.

"Now listen, I know what you're thinking-" He began, but I stopped him as soon as I could.

"As long as this shit doesn't end up on Tsun island, I don't care. Keep doing what you're doing, my lips are sealed." I smiled, chuckling at his flustured face.

"What?" His mouth closed slightly, his eyes narrowed at me.

"Keep sending it where it's going, don't let it end up on my doorstep and you're fine. Fuck with the island and you fuck with me, no meth in Tsun." My eyes narrowed too.

He stared at me, trying to threaten me, I had the perfect trick to freak him out and show him to make him fear me. I opened my mouth slightly, forming a spider out of ice to crawl out of my mouth. The moment it happened, Walt walked backwards, his mouth opening in fear.

It traveled over my face before I made it's legs touch my bright blue eye and slowly disolve into my bloodstream again. It was over, but Walter's look of terror was still fixed on me.

"I can make it do that to you too, but I can also make it rip out your insides." I smiled creepily.

"Don't try to threaten me again Walter." I began to grin, showing my fanged teeth at the corners of my mouth.

Mike chuckled too, about to give Walter some much needed information.

"When he was 15, some drug dealers sold his best freind meth. He nearly overdosed and fell into a pool at the school that they both attended. Understandably J was upset, so he found the dealers and crucified them in a forest near the school, then he shot every meth dealer that he could find, sending a clear message." Mike explained.

I pulled up my shirt slightly and pulled my waistband down enough so he could see the small tattoo. The date Jack nearly died.

"No. Meth. In. Tsun." I smiled.

"Yo!" Came a gruff but young voice from the lab.

A young man from the lab looked up at us, he looked at me much like Walter had done. Before he could say anything else, I leaned over the balcony and started before he could.

"Listen to me, don't try to threaten me like these two have, just get your shit and hurry up." I spoke, a pissed off tone very evident in my voice.

He looked taken aback, but did as I said. Moving over to the lockers to get changed, before anything else could happen, I patted down my clothes looking for my herbal cigarettes which were close by.

"Before we leave Mike, I need a smoke, these displays are putting me into stabby stabby mode." I sighed, putting one above my ear so it was at hand.

Jesse came up the stairs, his clothes clean and smart enough. Something that I found somewhat alluring were his blue eyes, but then again his recently shaved head was off putting to me. Not that I was fishing, but he seemed so handsome.

"We ready?" He asked, lifting his arms out to the side.

Mike looked at me, noticing that I was about to try and rip the skin off of my own face.

"Yeah, we're going kid." Mike chuckled slightly walking away.

I followed him, back away from Walter not paying him any mind. The instant I got outside, I put the cigarette in my mouth and lit it as soon as I could taking in the smoke and holding at for as long as I could.

The smoke leaked out of my nose as I began to lose the ability to hold my breath. One calm exhale and the rest of it was gone, suddenly I began to feel invigorated again. I finished the cigarette quickly and scrapped it away on the floor, watching the ash get blended into the gravel.

"Let's go." I sighed, about to get into the passenger seat.

"Uh uh. Back seat, both of you." Mike halted me.

I got into the back seat, followed by Jesse who sat behind Mike.

About a minute after we'd started down the road, Jesse began to start looking at me. He was interested in my tattoos, but this wasn't the only thing he was looking at, I knew what it was. It was always the same thing, I rotated my arm so he could see both rows of scars across my wrists.

"I think you'd like to know my name before you know about these scars Jesse." I smiled weakly.

"Sorry man, I just never get it. I mean why?" He started.

I looked at him and raised my eye brow, he hadn't got me the first warning I gave him.

"Ok, so what's you're name?" He asked.

"Jason White, but you only call me J. And I can read you like I read Mike earlier." I smiled at him.

"Oh yeah, like what? Come on, show me." He began to fan his hands towards himself.

I began looking at every exposed piece of skin that was on show. It was far too easy.

"Pale skin, you spend a lot of time indoors and when you do move around you do it by car.  
Based on how pale you are, a lot of drug use not to mention how skinny you are, common signs of meth use. Small red mark on your jugular is akin to a needle mark, most likely used for drug injection so either Heroin or Morphine, it's old so you've stopped on that. You're eyes are clear but glassy so you've been sleeping well, but you've been clean for a while, something's turned you around." When I came to a close I saw a change in his eyes, they widened then began to look away.

"Someone you loved... I'm sorry, I know how it feels for someone to die by something you love." I sighed, stopping reading.

"Which was that?" Mike called from the front.

"Someone stole a gun of mine from my house, then he shot me and himself... It wasn't Jack, the one who fell in the pool. It was a freind of mine in the Triad, he thought he was bringing dishonor to his family but didn't want to live without me." I explained, trying to stay calm.

"Sorry to hear that... Don't you have one happy story, maybe one I could tell my granddaughter?" Mike sighed.

I began to think back, attempting to try and find one.

"Luke, my brother... Seeing him makes me feel like there's hope. My dad kept him in an underground facillity doing experiments on him, just monitering him. Had like a miniature city made out of plywood for him and a swimming pool. Taught him reading, maths and writing... Little did Luke know that dear old Dad was trying hard to do something terrible to him. You see, dad was a scientist who knew that mom's genes held something other than human, dad wanted to share those genes and make men into things like me. The thing is, it would kill any man woman or child that was exposed, I rescued him... I was trying to kill our father, but Luke kind of distracted me. Dad got away, but I saved Luke, teaching him the things I should have been taught when I was young and raised him right, he's still got a way to go." I began to tell the story of Luke.

Of course I was paraphrasing, but to tell the whole story would take far too long. Besides, I didn't really know Mike, nor did I know a thing about Jesse. He seemed to be listening intently as though he knew a kid a bit like Luke. There wasn't a kid like Luke, he was truly unique even if his story wasn't.

"How is he? I mean that kind of thing must be hard on him." Jesse asked.

"He has trouble with some concepts. I remember sex ed day... I spent hours trying to explain to him what a fucking cevix was. Hell, I don't really know what it is. Had to buy him books, in fact that's one of the only things he does." I smiled, laughing at the memory.

"I mean, psychologically. Some shit like that." Jesse pressed for more info.

"He's not retarded or anything. He's got a memory like a camcorder, learns something new every day and applies it to his life... So think of it like this, one day I started teaching him how to drive, you know basic stuff. Next morning I hear an engine going, what's he doing?" I lead Jesse to ask.

He didn't but invited me to go on with his eye.

"He's on the ride on mower, doing the front lawn." I chuckled explaining the story.

Mike let out the shorted chuckle I'd heard, but it was there none-the-less. Jesse grinned widely, showing he realised.

Several minutes later, my craving was becoming more and more hectic. My hand constantly tapping on my knee, my other dangerously close to my hand to my mouth. Close enough to get bitten if I couldn't control myself.

The car pulled over, close to a run down old house in the desert. Mike set the handbrake on and got out. I took the opportunity to get out of the car and take some deep breaths of fresh air. The sudden rush of fresh air made me turn slightly. My head began to spin, as such I tilted my head back to the sun in order to take in as much air as I could.

"I'd wish you'd let me open that fucking window." I sighed at Mike as he grumbled past me.

When I began to feel righted, I took a look at what he was doing, only to find he'd grabbed a shovel. Instantly I took a look at Jesse who looked as though this was normal.

Mike returned from the trunk and walked away from the car with a shovel.

"Don't worry, we're collecting cash. I thought the same thing when I came out here first." Jesse reassured me as he came around to my side of the car.

I watched as Mike kept walking until he reached a patch of grass and started digging.

"We've driven two hours... For Mike to dig a hole? And I dropped my gun for this..." I sighed, patting my vest down, looking for my meds.

"What is that anyway?" Jesse commented on my vest.

"It's from a Biker crew I worked for. Moving stuff from A to B, talking to this guy, getting packages from the other guy... Most boring job I had, but it was nice to see the island on the back of a bike." I smiled, looking at the patches on the chest of the vest.

Jesse began to look worried slightly.

"Don't worry, I don't live in the US. I'm not part of a biker crew out here." I chuckled slightly as I looked out towards the desolate area.

If I wasn't as smart as I was, I'd have thought a nuke had hit the place and this was like ground zero. Thankfully I had some sort of intelligence, of course there was the issue of the area we were in and of course what it was that Mike was doing.

My hand began to twitch, looking for the hi-power that wasn't there anymore. However, if this was one of those situations in which Jesse and I would end up dead, we'd be digging the hole at gunpoint. Even though Jesse explained the situation to me, I was still on edge. Too many people had tried to kill me in this past, this was just one of those techniques people used every now and again. Although, they ended up more often in penny dreadfuls than real life.

"Is this a common drop off point Jesse?" I wondered, seeing Mike drop the shovel and get down on his knees.

"Every so often, we can end up driving 20 miles or so for one bale." He answered.

"20 miles... Jesus fucking Christ. Walt's up to his eyes in this aint he?" I looked at Jesse.

20 miles for one bale of cash, which only could have been about 2 grand meant that the operation in question was massive. I didn't realise how big it was, the lab should have been a good enough clue, but it seemed like it was just state side. Based on the size of the lab, I estimated that it cooked about 300,000 dollars worth of product per batch. Meaning that 20 miles was not the maximum radius of these dead drops.

"You're not carrying are you?" I looked at Jesse.

He shook his head, taking out a cigarette and placing it in his mouth.

"A lighter, I mean Jesse." I sighed, realising I'd used the wrong words.

He then patted himself down, frantically looking for his lighter.

"Shit." He hissed through the cigarette.

I whistled to catch his attention, he looked at me in time to see the lighter coming at him. It hit him in the chest and he almost shit his pants trying to catch it. When he caught it he lit his cigarette and was about to throw it back.

"Don't even think about it. Keep it, not like I really need it anyway." I laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Breaking bad C-2**

 **Before I start this chapter, I need to explain something. This C-1 C-2 C-3 thing it's just the way that I label my files. It's the name on the document and I always start the document this way. This is a contingency thing, if I accidentally label it wrong, it never happens when I start a document.**

 **Also, if you read the first chapter, then you already know. This isn't your adverage "what if?" scenario or something along those lines, this is a small section of a series of stories including the character J. Please keep that in mind.**

 **And if on the off chance I do provide the backstory on 'every fucking tree branch' please feel free to tell me and I'll cut down. the first chapter is always the establishing one for me.**

 **Jason - Hours later**

Night had passed, day had come and we were still driving. Thankfully we were on the way back, however we stopped nearby a poultry farm.

"J, I know you're tired." Mike began, bringing me back to my senses.

"You're right. I am tired, do you mind telling me why I'm at a farm rather than my motel room?" I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

"Two jobs you said. This was the first, you're about to be breifed on your second." Mike explained.

He was right, even though this dead drop buisness was enough to make you drop dead from sleep deprevation, it was still one job. I owed Mike, this was bound to be a much bigger job then I thought.

"So this was just... what? Letting me understand the buisness?" I asked, getting agitated with him.

"In a way, yes." Mike tilted his head and pursed his lips as he said this.

"You fuck... I get paid to run a chain buisness for the mafia families on Tsun island, I take contacts out every now and again. You understand? I know buisness, I know killing. Killing is my buisness Mike and you've..." I was pissed, enough to break Mike's neck from the back seat.

That didn't seem like the best option seeing as the men he worked with were likely very serious based on the amount of moeny I fugured they made a month, which was several million dollars at least.

"What is the job?" I sighed.

"You'll find out." He stared.

Mike looked at Jesse, then at me.

I took Jesse's seatbelt off, then pushed open the door on his side and kicked him out of the car, waking him up instantly. He cursed, sending abuse my way as I climbed out of the car on my side.

"Bitch, what did you do that for?" He yelled as I shut my door.

"First rule of being on a job, especially with new people like me. Eyes open, no trust." I chuckled as I watched him brush his clothes down.

Mike lead us towards one of the cabins, the idea was to keep out of sight. That wasn't hard seeing as it was literally the crack of dawn, no-one was going to be around at this time. Jesse followed behind, mumbling as he did so.

We neared these steps, some steel steps into one of these cabins made out of fibre glass. I hated them, they caught fire way too easily and more to the point, were so weak you might as well stand outside if there was a fire fight. Never the less, Mike went first. He opened the door and peeked inside, he then looked at me and jerked his thumb as a signal to walk up the stairs.

As I walked inside, I regretted wearing the vest. The room was empty apart from one man wearing gold rimmed glasses and a dark grey suit using a black shirt combo.

"Please, come in." He spoke.

He was hispanic, medium hieght but he was skinny. The build told me he looked after himself, not the kind of man I expected to run a drug ring. I did as he said, he watched my every move with these dead eyes as I neared him slowly.

"Please, sit." He opened his hand towards one of the chairs oposite him.

I took the chair and sat in it. Waiting for his next move or words.

"As I understand it, you've taken a very particular intrest in one of my chemists." He spoke quickly, a smile at his lips.

I didn't answer, I just tried to read him, but couldn't manage it. He was 'bland' but he was also full of things I could read. He was an enigma, something I didn't like.

"My interest in in his brother, more specifically my father." I answered carefully.

He waited, as though he was analysing my reply.

"I know, Mike has filled me in on the situation." He lost his smile.

"This is the part of the converstation in which you tell me what you want." His voice lowered.

He was trying to intimidate me, meaning he knew very little about me.

"Information about Angel White. People he's worked with, places he's been in the past 6 months, the buisness he's in... Any information that gets me close enough to kill him is enough." I answered simply.

"That can be arranged. Of course you will have to do something for me first." He kept his serious tone.

"I have one condition, which is a very clique one. No children." I interupted him.

"Of course..." He seemed offended, but continued nonetheless.

"I want you to go to Mexico, we are going to destroy a cartel there. Mike and Mr Pinkman will be coming with us, you are a proffessional are you not?" He leaned in.

I stared him in the eyes, looking into his dark eyes, looking for a soul that didn't seem to be there.

"The island I'm from was on the midst of a gang war, big one too. One side lead by a Russian family backed by a faction of the Jaurez cartel and the Traid. What's worse is that they had the bikers on their side too. Why? Drugs... The Itallians I worked for stopped tafficking drugs and stopped anyone dealing drugs on their territory which was built up areas so the other families weren't making as much as they used to." I started explaining an old situation.

Gus listened intently.

"My job was to try and keep the families stable, stop them from ripping each other apart seeing as the police force on the island was doing that already. They had a zero-tolerance policy which slowly turned into martial law... In short, I slowly negotiated the families to stop trying to rip each other's throat out and focus on the threat the police were." I kept going with the story.

Gus kept looking at me, taking in every detail.

"The Juarez family was dealing drugs to children. I tourtured 2 dealers and sent them home to tell the tale. They then tried to kill me and failed, after that something happened. I blacked out, then when I woke up, in a forest with cartel members crucified to trees and others hung by the neck." I was coming to a close.

"In other words, I'm adaptable to my situation and always remain proffessional, unless it strikes close to home." I stared, my voice was stuck in this strange tone.

The man stared at me, his eyes still as cold as they ever were. Eventually he leaned back into the chair he was sitting in, still keeping consistant eye contact with me.

"I had no doubt of your ability. I have contacts in Tsun island, that was until you killed them." He spoke in a low tone.

I began to remember a few meth carriers who didn't fit the bill.

"The Sicilian... I remember him. His crew tried to kill me, it was nothing personal." I smiled, remembering the challenging gunfight.

"How are you at long range?" He asked.

"Past 800 yards I'm no good." I tried being honest.

"Can you shoot at a thousand?" He pressed.

I burst out laughing.

"I just told you I struggle at 800 yards. Even with a precision rifle with the best optic money can buy, I can't judge wind and bullet drop at that range." I chuckled.

Gus placed his hands together, touching his lips as he sighed.

"I'm sorry if you were told I'm a sniper, I've never attempted shots like that on a moving target." I apologised.

"How would you feel if I asked you to take on the role of a... Slave, in a way?" He asked.

Taken aback, I looked at Mike who barely shrugged in my general direction.

"You mean like, servant rather than physical labor or sex right?" I needed to know before he went further.

He nodded.

"So long as I was only playing the role, fine. That would get me close enough to the members for a silent takedown, it wouldn't get me far though." I theroised aloud for Gus to hear.

"Poison is my weapon of choice in this scenario, I only need backup seeing as you're unable to use a rifle at the required distance." He frowned, placing his fingertips down on the table and pushing himself to his feet.

"I've heard stories about your 'gunplay' Mr White. Are they true?" His demeanor changed once more, he was smiling now, rather than being a buisness man.

"Sure. I can use pretty much anything, it's not that hard to be a gunman." I smiled back, placing a mask back on.

Underneath the pleasentries, I was begining to despise Gus every second he spoke to me. His demeanor changes kept me on edge, waiting for something to happen. A tell in his movements or his facial expression to tell me that somethings was going to happen would have been nice, here, he was just a dead eyed man.

Gus reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a revolver and pointed it at me, a common mistake for many men to make. Not because I'd have killed them if they were genuine about killing me, but because nine times out of ten they were just trying to intimidate me.

"I should hope so, you may see this at the villa." He warned.

"Will they be carrying unloaded revolvers?" I smiled as I stood up myself.

My right hand began to get cold, just as well seeing as I needed something just in case Mike wasn't who I thought he was.

"If so, I'd be well equipped to deal with them." I stopped smiling, feeling the cold ice form in my palm.

With my left hand, I grabbed the revolver and forced it away from my face quickly. As I did this, I placed the side of the ice blade against the inside of Gus' elbow.

"It would be wise of you to not point a gun in my face again, be it loaded or not." I sighed, removing the blade and releasing Gus' wrist.

Gus smiled, knowing he'd found the right man.

"Mike will contact you soon, get yourself something smart and do not turn up in that vest on the day. We don't need a reason for them not to trust you." His smile faded as he became serious again.

"Alright. I'll see you then." I nodded.

Gus extended his hand for me to shake which I took. When he let go, he guestured for me to walk out the door with Mike. I did so, beginning to hate Gus as I did. Being outside in the blazing morning sun was different from the mild summers that I was used to. The heat stiring my feelings up.

I walked for a good 20 feet towards the car before I couldn't hold in my feelings anymore.

"Fuck." I sighed, running my fingers through my hair.

"What's up?" Jesse called from the car.

I approached him, quickly and quietly.

"This mexico thing, how big is it?" I asked.

Jesse looked at me, confused.

"It's a country man, it's pretty big." He sighed.

I began to wonder how Jesse had gotten into an operation like the one that he was in at the time. However, I had to be kind enough to get a straight answer.

"Gus has me in on it. I know what the job is, you're in it?" I tried.

Jesse's eyes widened at the news, but didn't speak as Mike had made his way over to us.

"He's right kid, it might be low profile but that place you're in is a piece of shit. You need somewhere clean." Mike gave his input to Gus's last comment.

"Where are you staying?" Jesse began.

"Crossroads." Mike asnwered before I could.

"Why don't you move in with me for a while?" Jesse offered.

Mike scoffed.

"You've got the partying out of your system?" He joked.

Jesse only sighed and shook his head.

"Listen, it's fine. If you've got room and your offering I'll gladly take you up on it. As of now though, I need sleep." I sighed.

"Get in then. We've got a while before we get back into town." Mike jerked his head towards the car as he walked around to get into the drivers seat.

I jumped into the back seat, letting Jesse get shotgun. After the long hours of work, it didn't take long for me to end up dropping off.

20 minutes later and I began to feel something strange, when I opened my eyes I realised that we'd pulled up outside the dank motel and Jesse was staring at me. I stared back for a few seconds before one of us spoke.

"What?" I interupted his concentration.

He didn't respond, so I flicked his forehead. Of course, he responded definitaly.

"What was that for?" He whined as I took my seatbelt off.

"To stop you staring at me." I explained.

After wiping my eyes from tiredness, I looked out the window at the motel, realising that it was more filthy than it was when I left.

"Come up and see me when you've got time to pick me up Jesse. And thanks Mike, this means a lot." I spoke quickly as I opened the door to get out.

When I closed the door to the car, I walked groggily to my apartment, opened the door, got in, locked it, drew the curtains, took off all my clothes and got in bed. The warmth it gave me ontop of the already scorching morning air was strangly comforting, bringing me some kind of confidence that everything would be alright.

It was either the warmth or the 9mm automatic under my pillow that gave me the confidence to sleep in the dump I was in. In the past I'd slept in service tunnels and abandoned subway stations, it was thanks to the weapons I was carrying at the time that gave me the confidence to sleep. This situation was not diferent from back then, I was in a job where I had no choice but to follow orders. Sleeping in dank places like the motel was part of the job.

Hours into this deep sleep, I heard the handle on the door move, In haste, I drew the PPK I hid in the pillow and pointed it at the door whilst simoultaiously pulling my jeans on.

A figure passed by the window, a gun in hand. A sound in the bathroom forced my attention away.

I was surrounded by some group, pissed off drug dealers of junkies perhaps. Either way, they were out of their league. Quietly, I edged myself over to the bathroom and grabbed the handle gently and waited, the PPK still aimed directly at the front door.

The bathroom door's handle shuddered, quickly I opened it and barged into the man who had snuck into the room. He wasn't a cop or a fed.

As I thought, junkies were trying to rob me. I struck the first skinny intruder across the throat with the butt of the pistol, causing him to choke on his collapsed windpipe.

"You stay there, fucker." I growled, stealing his pistol and placing it in my waistband.

When I came back into the main room, I opened the drawer and took the silencer for the PPK and screwed it into place on the pistol. This was just in time for the door man to kick the door down, his pistol barely raised.

One well aimed shot to the left of his pelvis was enough to drop him to floor screaming. My efforts of keeping quiet were ruined by the window man fireing his first shot through the glass and curtains, missing me by six feet.

Whoever it was, was an amatuer. Either way, my cover was ruined as was his life. From the light coming in through the hole in the curtains I could tell where he was. I let of two rounds either side of the hole before turning the pistol on the bathroom invader with a shot to the knee cap to keep him subdued.

Realising I was in deep shit, I gathered everything that was mine including the shell casings on the floor. After dumping everything in the case and dressing in a minimalistic fashion, I retrieved my keys and walked to my car and threw the case in the back seat before getting in and driving off.

With my ears still ringing from the shot of the amatuer, I managed to pick up the phone and call Mike as I sped away from the scene of the crime. Of course, Mike took his time picking up but he managed it eventually.

"What's up?" He asked, as though I'd interupted him.

"Someone just tried to break into my apartment, 3 guys with guns. They're on the ground and out of it, not dead. I need an out Mike, give me some directions." I spoke quickly, but not really bothering to make sure that it was coherant.

Mike groaned as I kept on driving, waiting for a response. I didn't know what was going through his head at the time, all I knew was that there was more than getting me out of the shit on his mind at the minute.

"Listen, there's a car crusher not far from the Crossroads called Old Joe's. Know it?" Mike began.

I began to think about it and remembered that there was a place with that name, and vaugely where it was.

"Yeah, near enough. Why?" I replied, stopping at the red light.

"Because you're going to crush your car there and then Pinkman's going to pick you up." He explained.

I never liked the car, so I agreed to the plan. Mike hung up, I kept driving. When I was far enough away from the motel, I slowed down and started on my way to the wrecking yard. After leaving the outskirts of the city, I began to see the signs leading me to Old Joe's. It didn't take long to get there.

There I was, waiting at the gate for someone to come up and let me in seeing as the gate was barred shut on the other side.

All of a sudden, the gate opened up. A tall, slender old man guestured for me to come in to the yard. I pulled in and waited for the gate to close before I started scanning the car's interior for items I'd left behind. Once all of my things were with me, I got out of the car to meet Old Joe.

"You're Joe?" I asked as he neared me.

"Yup, Mike called ahead. You got out well enough didn't you?" He asked, looking concerned for my age.

I shrugged as I got the bag out of the back of the car.

"Not the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm glad I've got Mike on my side, I wouldn't know what to do here." I smiled as I closed the door and grabbed my wallet from my bag.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked.

Joe laughed and guestured me to put my wallet away.

"We're gonna stip it down, recycle the parts, make a little money from it. No need to pay." He smiled.

It made sense, but it didn't make sense that he didn't want compensating for the risk. Never the less, I figured that he knew what he was doing. One of Joe's guys got in the car and took it to a workshop further in the yard.

"We'll stip the paint, dismantle the whole thing, sell the parts and it'll be like it never existed." He patted me on the shoulder.

"So what now? You gotta lay low somewhere." He wondered aloud.

"Someone's picking me up, I'll be alright. Mind if I wait in here for him?" I asked, needing somewhere secluded to meet Jesse.

"Sure. You need anything you know where to find me." Joe smiled as he walked away.

Joe was strangly upbeat for a criminal, never the less he seemed like a good guy and certainly wasn't a rat. If he was, there would be a lot of police activity around his yard which he wouldn't want.

Sighing, I set the bag down near the gate and sat on it, phone in hand and waited to hear it ring.

 **Jesse**

My phone started ringing halfway through a game I was watching with Brock and Andrea. When I looked, it was Mike.

"Hey, I need to take this. I shouldn't be a minute." I smiled at her as I got up from the couch.

I went into the kitchen and answered the phone.

"I'm kind of busy Mike, what's up?" I asked as I answered the phone.

"Remember your generous offer to that Kid? Well he's taking you up on it. His motel room just got shot up and he's trying to find a place to lay low." Mike explained as though he didn't care, or that it was something that happened on a regular basis.

"Jesus." I sighed, thinking of what to do.

"The kid's up at Joe's wrecking yard, waiting for you to pick him up." he sighed.

"I can't. I've got company." I spoke quietly.

"So do I, kid. He's waiting." Mike hung up in his usual fashion.

I stood there with the phone between my hands, pressed against my mouth. I didn't know what to do, I could just leave Brock and Andrea there on their own. I couldn't leave J on his own at a wrecking yard.

"Hey, Jesse. What's up?" Andrea called from the living room.

Deciding what I had to do, I went back into the living room.

"Andrea, listen... uhh." I began, not knowing how to explain the situation.

"What?" She asked, focusing on the T.V. with Brock.

It was best to just come clean, with a twist of course.

"A freind of mine, he got hurt pretty bad. He needs a place to crash for a while, I've got to pick him up." I explained, grabbing my coat from the hook near the door.

Andrea took her eyes away from the T.V to look at me.

"Who is he?" she asked.

Stumped, that was the only word for it. There was no way that I was going to explain away a 14 or 15 year old crashing with me.

"He works with me at the laundry, he's a good guy but he's had it rough. Lost his parents and doesn't have anyone to turn to." I frowned, realising how close to the truth my lie was.

"Oh..." Andrea sighed slightly.

Quickly I tried to intervene, trying to lift her spirits slightly.

"It's no big deal, he's a kind of guy who'll deny help if he doesn't need it. I've got to do this for him or else he could end up in a bad way. He's tough, but he ain't that tough." I smiled as I pulled on my jacket and picked up my keys.

"How bad is it? You said he's hurt?" She worried, standing up.

"He got a concussion in a fight... I mean fall. He fell over whilst drunk." I explained.

Andrea patted Brock on the shoulder and got him to his feet. She was on her way out, attempting to leave.

"You don't have to go you know." I sighed.

"No, it's ok. If he's hurt with a concussion he probobly needs a quiet place, with Brock and I around that's hard to do." She hurried as she grabbed her coat.

"Well then let me take you home at least." I panicked, hoping this wouldn't be a nail in the coffin.

She just looked at me, then looked at Brock and then back to me.

 **Jason. 5pm**

A horn woke me up from my sleep. It came from the other side of the gate, I didn't understand what took Jesse so long to get there.

Reluctantly I got up from my sleeping position and hoisted the bag over my shoulder. Of course it was Jesse in quite possibly the biggest piece of shit car I'd ever seen, which was saying something seeing as my front yard was near enough a scrapyard.

As I approached his window, he wound it down.

"Hey, I'm sorry I'm late." He apologised.

"I can understand an hour Jesse, but 3? You could have called Mike or something." I sighed as I walked around to the passenger side of his car.

Quickly I threw the bag in the back of his car and got in the passanger side before closing the door behind me.

"I'm sorry, I was busy alright?" He started getting frustrated.

I just looked at him, my face and clothes covered in dust from the road and surrounding area. My appearance told the story, I hadn't moved from that position for the whole time I was waiting.

Shaking my head, I pulled out my case of herbs and placed one in my mouth.

"It's alright. Come on, let's go." I smiled for him as I began to light it.

Before Jesse pulled away, he reminded me that I should put on my seatbelt. I did, and we were on our way down a dust trail, into the sunset towards the city. As we drove, I realised that Jesse didn't take good care of the car, there were a lot of cigarette butts in the car, not to mention the fact that it looked like it was never cleaned out. I didn't complain, most of the cars I owned ended up like the Honda Accord I'd given to Joe. Either chopped or wrecked, it didn't matter, they weren't drivable afterwards.

Not that I was a bad driver, quite the oposite. I could drive a car on any terrain at any speed, what I wasn't good at was dodging bullets in said cars. I noticed that Jesse remained incredibly calm around me, likely because he felt sorry for me for some reason.

That was always it, people saw the scar below my chin, some saw the ones across my wrists from a time best left in the past. Never the less, it still made me pretty angry knowing that I was being judged when people didn't even ask.

"Did you see the scar?" I asked, taking a drag of the herbs.

"Yeah... why?" He asked as he focused on the road.

"Because some poeple make up stories about scars before asking. If you're wondering, it came from my dad. So if you're feeling sorry for me or something, stop." I sighed, blowing smoke out the window.

"What makes you think I feel sorry for you?" Jesse frowned.

I laughed slightly.

"How tense your arms are, are you that worried about 'em?" I chuckled.

"No, just... Just shut up for a minute alright?" He sighed, focusing on the road.

So I did, complete silence. Jesse kept on driving at some speed before we hit the suburbs to which he slowed down pretty quickly. We cruised along for a while before he pulled up outside a pretty large house.

"We're here." He patted me to get my attention from the road.

"Ok." I woke up from the slight trance.

Jesse got up and out of the car, grabbing my bag as he did so. I did what I figured was the right thing to do which was get out of the car and follow him towards his house. It was bang in the middle of a suburb, one place that I knew wasn't the kind of place where drug dealers hung out, unless of course they were looking for a place they could get buyers of potentally large amounts.

"Listen, Jesse. I'm sorry if I was pissy with you earlier." I apologiesed as we walked towards his house.

Jesse stopped, his hand and key in midair, almost as if I'd frozen him solid.

"Jesse?" I asked, hoping he had'nt been hurt.

"Sorry it's just, noones really apologised to me like... Genuinly." Jesse kind of choked up.

I chuckled under my breath slightly.

"Sounds to me like you need some nicer freinds." I smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, maybe. Who's really genuine in this world though?" Jesse finally unlocked the door and opened it before tossing my bag to the side and walking in.

I came in with him, closing the door behind me as I went.

"They don't come looking for you, that's for sure." I sighed as I looked around the untidy room.

"I remember coming back to the island for the first time, almost every person who bullied me from before tried continuing buisness as usual. That was until they heard about the things I'd done to get back onto the island, everything changed then. All respectfull and shit now." I started rambling again.

"Of course they did, I mean shit. They thought of me as a self harming midget before, now they think of me as a psycho who could snap at any second and kill them. Fear and reespect seems to be what makes people your freinds. It's not." I smiled taking the gun out of my holster and placing it at the bottom of my back.

"Nope, it's the good times outweighing the bad that makes a good freind. Sure there's the bad, there's gotta be. Of course, whats the point of staying connected to someone if all they do is cause you pain." I kept rambling, seeing as Jesse was looking at me still, almost as though he was hanging on every word.

More than likely weirded out by the phylosiphy of a teenage psychopath.

"That is of course unless you want to kill him." I finished as I sat down on the couch.

Of course, Jesse didn't get my point, instead of asking me what my point was like most people, he instead decided to ask something else.

"What's the kind of thing you do though? I mean the good times here, not the bad times." He started.

Taken aback slightly, I thought I'd open up a little bit more.

"I've done a few things... Some I should have like pot, but then again I had a good laugh with the guys on that. Bikers were more fun though, having a roaring engine between your legs and the wind in your hair... Hurts the crotch a little, but like I said, the good outweighs the bad." I smiled as I finished talking about what I used to do.

I didn't bother asking Jesse about what he did for fun, the house -although it had been some time since he'd last smoked in it- had a hint of the same smell that was on Walts clothes. Whereas riding bikes with a gun on my hip was my vice, Jesse's was crystal meth.

"I'd quit that shit, Jesse. As if the smoking doesn't do enough to you, the meth itself, it fucks you up." I started.

"Dude, you've got a cigarette case, cuts on your wrists and guns in your bag, how do you get to judge me bitch?" Jesse got defencive.

I closed my eyes slightly, knowing more than a few things from working with detectives in the past. I realised Jesse had more than a few vices.

"I know you're a good man Jesse." I began

"How do you know me?" Jesse actually stood up.

I knew where Jesse had hidden about a pound of meth, the smell was coming from a speaker.

"I know you've got about a pound of meth hidden somewhere in the house, I know you havn't smoked up recently, most likely because you've had someone here. A girl you care about, not just her but her son too." I read the room just like I'd read people before.

"How did you-" Jesse began.

"Popcorn." I smiled smugly.

"No-one I know eats popcorn alone, it's a group thing. As for the kid, the game next to your t.v. is made for kids. Combine the two you have a girlfriend and her son, not yours otherwise the meth wouldn't be inside the house at all." I splayed my arms outwards in deductive victory.

"Yes. I am a smartass." I chuckled.

Jesse sat back down on the couch, somewhat flabergasted.

"Listen, Jesse. I don't mean to be a prick. I've been sleeping in a junkyard waiting for you to pick me up, I'm irratable when I'm sleepy." I sighed, noting how pissed of Jesse looked.

"I know... Listen, how long do you need to stay here?" Jesse decided to change the subject.

If Walter had been foward with me, I wouldn't have had to stay after the job in Mexico was finished. As it happened, Walter White was a fucking nutjob who wouldn't really help me out. So, the real answer to it was-

"I don't know to tell the truth Jesse. As it is, I've got 3 months in the US legally. Hopefully as soon as this thing is done in Mexico, Walt will tell me what I need to know and I'll be on my way... In short Jesse, I don't know." I explained.

"Great." Jesse rubbed his eyes.

"Don't worry Jesse, it'll be fine." I relaxed, kicking off my shoes as I did.

"Fine? You got attacked." Jesse scoffed at me.

"By a bunch of addicts who thought they were getting the keys to my slightly nice car which is now a part of about 20 slightly nice cars. They ain't coming here." I kept on relaxing.

Something I was going to have to get used to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jason**

I fell asleep not long after I got in Jesse's house. It was barely dark out, but the past few hours had killed me.

It wasn't just the sitting around and waiting for Jesse to pick me up, it was the short fight I had at Crossroads was like the spark that started a bush fire. I wanted to fight someone or something again, I wanted to do it soon.

Instead, I just slept, it was better than trying to fight Jesse.

Before I could even think about waking up, Jesse managed to wake me up without even trying to. All he did was shake my leg to get me up.

"Hey, get up." Jesse groaned as he shook me, still sleepy apparently.

" _T_ _ā mā de, wǒ h_ _ái zài zuòmèng"_ I slurred in Chinese at him, telling him to kindly leave me alone and that I was still dreaming.

"I don't know what you just said, but I hope it means you're getting up." Jesse groaned as he stretched his arms out.

"I told you to fu-" I began to tell him what I said until I tried to roll onto my side, only to fall off the couch.

I hit the wooden floor, hard enough to wake me up fully.

"What?" He asked, still not getting it.

"I told ya to feck off." I sighed as I climbed up, using the couch as leverage.

"Oh, nice to know." Jesse shrugged it off as I straightened up.

There was a knock at the door, making me freeze in place, wishing I was smart enough to keep the handgun on me just in case.

"Oh no..." Jesse sighed, annoyed.

"What?" I asked as I reached for my bag and tried to get a shirt out of it.

" _Jesse, open the door, it's me."_ A woman's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

Jesse breathed a sigh of relief, pretty much confirming it was his girlfriend. Before I spoke to anyone new, I needed a shower more than anything. As Jesse walked over to the door to open it, I pulled out clean clothes and set them on the couch for me to wear after my shower.

"Hey, Andrea." Jesse greeted the Hispanic woman outside whilst I wrestled with the bag, trying to conceal my meds and the gun.

The sound of a kiss rang out whilst I checked my watch for the time.

10am

"Christ." I gave up trying to wake up in the morning on time.

Andrea noticed me like the elephant in the room I was.

"You're Jesse's friend right? I'm Andrea, are you alright?" She came forward with an outstretched hand.

When I stood up, I accidentally pulled out the case of meds and dropped them back in the bag.

"Y-yeah, I just had a fall that's all. I met Jesse at an addicts meeting, how about you?" I asked as I shook her hand, hoping she hadn't seen the case.

She had.

"Same here, are you on meds for it?" She asked.

"For what?" I asked, confused.

"The addiction?" She asked, almost seeing through my bullshit.

"Oh, no. They're steroids for my leg." I thought of the easiest explanation, I had a large scar on my leg, she'd believe it.

"Ahhh." She nodded.

"You're young for an addict, what is it?" She pressed on.

Quick thinking came into play, of course, that easier said than done.

"Morphine." I answered.

Well, it was better than saying I had a sex addiction.

"Must be rough, so what happened last night?" She asked.

More quick thinking.

"These weren't cutting it, so I scored a bit of morphine from a doctor. When I hit it..." I paused, more for effect than thinking what to say next.

"I lost it, I just packed up my bag here and started walking for miles. Then I fell over pretty hard, just managed to call someone before I passed out. Good thing I had Jesse's number." I smiled at Jesse, making the story seem more feasible.

"He's putting me up for a bit until I can get back up on my feet. Then I'm headed back home." I explained as I quickly took the case and zipped the bag back up.

Andrea took to smiling at Jesse, praising him somewhat for being a charitable soul.

"Jesse, do you mind if I use your shower?" I asked, trying to get out of the couple's way.

"Yeah, make yourself at home man." He focused on Andrea.

I chuckled a little as I took the clothes and the meds and took them up the stairs. I went into his bathroom and locked the door behind me. Before I did anything, I took the shirt off and took the holster off with my belt, then I took off my vest.

I saw myself in the mirror, scarred and tattooed. There I stood, Jason White.

Jason White, who needed to take his meds, even if they hurt.

Instead of putting it off, I got on with it. I put the case next to the sink and took out one of the preloaded syringes then set it down next to the sink.

I tightened the belt around my bicep and bit the loose part until I could find the vein. Before I could hesitate, I stuck the vein with the needle and pushed the plunger down, filling the vein with what felt like molten lava. As soon as it was done, I took the syringe out and let go of the belt before taking it off.

The flood of a burning sensation rushing through my veins, it felt like it was going to burn my soul away. It got worse when it finally reached its destination.

My heart.

I felt like my chest was going to burst. My bones clicking as if I was stretching when I wasn't.

"Fuck me..." I groaned through my gritted teeth.

The pain got worse until I could feel the rise of fluids trying to flush out of my system, and the only way was up.

I fell over next to the toilet, tainted blood rushing out of my mouth like a leaking tap.

"Are you alright in there J?" Jesse knocked on the door.

" _Yeah."_ I croaked, blood still curdling in my throat.

I spat out the last of the blood, hoping that that would last of it. The worst thing was that it wasn't the last of it. The second I got into the shower, there was a large red streak appearing down my face and down to my chest.

Thankfully the water was just washing it away. I managed to spit out the rest of it and clean myself up at the same time. Of course, by the end of it all I was feeling a lot better, but still feeling much too hairy for my taste, I'd have to fix that before we went to Mexico.

As I dried myself off, I actually began to wonder how I was going to do it. Gus' suggestion was for me to go as his 'slave' for lack of a better word. It would make it easy for me to get close to my target, but it might not be convincing. Gus would have to make me look like a slave, I didn't want to know how that would go, I just wanted to get it done and soon.

I got dressed into a pair of black jeans and a white t shirt. I checked myself out in the mirror to make sure that I didn't have any blood on my mouth before I went out back down the stairs into the living room.

I saw Andrea looking at the folder that was hidden in my bag, I didn't say anything. The folder was under the two guns in the bag, she already knew about them.

Jesse was stood over her shoulder, reading along with her.

When I noticed that Andrea was getting more distressed with each word she read, I gave a swift cough.

Jesse and Andrea's eyes snapped onto me in shock, wondering if I was even real or not.

"Don't say a word." I spoke quietly.

"Whatever you've read in that book, forget it. It's got nothing to do with you, so don't worry about it." I warned them, it wasn't a direct threat, but I guessed it was good enough.

"Is this you?" Andrea asked, holding up the book to me.

It was then that I noticed that the book was missing something, a small photo. The same I'd shown to Walter, I walked down the stairs quickly, trying to rack my brain to think where I'd left it.

The picture Andrea was referring to was in fact me. I wasn't too concerned about it though.

"Yeah it's me, did you take a picture out of this book?" I rushed her.

"No." She replied simply.

"Fuck." I hissed.

Quickly I went into my bag and took out the PPK and it's holster before putting it on again. Quickly I retrieved a waistcoat and threw it on before wrestling with my shoes.

"Where are you going?" Jesse began.

"I'm getting that photo back." I sighed as I opened the door and walked out.

 **Skyler - 30 minutes later.**

Walt had gone to work and Flynn had gone to school, that left me and Holly to ourselves for a while. That was until I heard swift knocking on the front door.

"Wait here baby." I set Holly in her cot before walking over to the door.

I looked out of the peep hole and didn't see more than a tuft of brunette hair. Wondering who it was, I opened the door to see Walt's nephew standing at the door.

"Hey." I greeted him with a friendly tone.

"Hi, do you mind if I come in?" He asked, purpose on his face.

"Sure." I let him in.

J walked into the room before rubbing his temples lightly.

"I don't mean to disturb you, trust me. Walt had a photo of my brother and me, I need it back." He spoke quickly and quietly as not to disturb Holly.

"Oh, umm. I think Walt put it around here somewhere. Is it important?" I asked, wondering how important the photo could actually be.

J looked awkwardly at Molly's crib, almost as if he was afraid by it.

"J?" I asked, resisting the temptation to click my fingers in front of his face.

He snapped out of it.

"Oh... Yeah, it's very important. Someone took it after Luke got kidnapped and I found him again." He explained as he walked over to the window.

I began to realise that J's English wasn't the best I'd heard, he was fluent but he wasn't exactly the best speaker I'd heard. I looked around the kitchen where J had left it when he came to the house for the first time, as I searched through a drawer, I realised something else.

"Hank must have taken it, either that or Walt still has it." I sighed.

"Shit. That's not good at all." J shook his head.

"If Hank has it he's going to use it as leverage, if Walt has it he's probably lost it. Why did I even bother?" He groaned into his hands, clearly frustrated with himself.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time, this clearly was a mistake on my part, I'm sorry." J began to walk over to the front door.

"J!" I called before he could even open it.

He waited for me, worry pasted on his face.

"How will it help?" I asked.

"The photo?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah, I mean. It's not incriminating, how are you going to use it against your Dad?" I pressed, trying to get something out of him.

"It's not evidence, it's the only picture of Luke I've got with me through this whole trip. He means more to me than... Well, anything really." He explained, looking as though he was about to start staring at the wall again.

"I'll take you to the DEA offices then, Hank will let me in to see him." I smiled kindly for him.

 **Hank**

Blue was still on the rise in the ABQ, of course I would have just loved to make that my main concern over the course of the next few days, but the issue of Jason White being in the US was almost bringing a halt to the whole investigation.

The question everyone was asking was 'why?'

Why had he come to the US?

I was going to go and find out, see if I could squeeze something out of Walt if I could find out wherever it was he was 'disappearing' to every day.

Well, that's what I would have had to do if he hadn't walked into my office, escorted by Skyler. The first question that came into my mind was how did Skyler find the courage to come with him, did he threaten her to do it?

Then again Skyler didn't know for a fact who it was standing next to her.

They sat down in the chairs opposite my desk, of course my gun wasn't too far away.

"Isn't this a surprise?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Jason.

He was looking at me, his eyes scanning me for everything he could use against me.

"You do know why I'm here don't you?" He asked, almost as if he'd rehearsed it.

"Done something I need to know about or do you have some information about the blue meth?" I wondered.

"Hank, you took the photo. He just wants it back." Skyler took up a position, clearly in favour of Jason.

I opened the drawer in my desk, put my gun on the desk and pulled out the photo. When i looked back at my desk, the Glock had been disassembled. The recoil spring on one end of the desk, the slide on the other and the barrel firmly in the hands of Jason. Skyler looked the most shocked out of the two of us.

"Who takes the trouble to have the feed ramp chromed, but not replace the barrel when the rifling has been worn out?" Jason asked, looking down the barrel.

However, he managed to do it didn't matter. What did was the fact he'd done it without me noticing.

"Someone who's stupid enough to think that if they change something so fundamental, it would change the way it feels. Am I right?" He pressed, tossing the barrel into the centre of the table.

I could have hit him, instead, I had something a lot closer to him that my Glock was to me.

"Tell me something, why is this so important?" I looked at the photo.

Jason was sat down next to his brother Luke, both of them smiling, Luke looking like a dog from a rescue home.

"It reminds me of why I'm here. See, Luke didn't know his mom." Jason began.

"And why's that?" I interrupted.

"Because Angel killed her before he ever got the chance to see her. Luke wasn't raised in the open air like you and I were. He was raised underground in a testing lab. He's ten times smarter than I am, but he doesn't know jack shit about life up here. He doesn't even know why we live on the island, he doesn't know what cruelty is." Jason's eyes had narrowed with every word, he kept staring at me.

"That kid has been through more shit than you would ever believe, the last thing I want for him is to meet one of the people that made it practically impossible for him to live amongst humans." It was almost as if he was trying to make me feel guilty.

Before I could say anything back, he kept going.

"It's important for people like me to live around humans. That's how we know something is different about us, it gives us an understanding of who and what we are. It gives us a responsibility to control ourselves." He spoke almost as though he was a doctor, laying out what was obvious.

The way he said it though made me sort of pissed. Almost as if we were lesser beings than him.

"Before you even begin to say 'you think you're better than me' and all of that bullshit, let me tell you something." Jason had read my mind.

He leant forward on the table, his face in mine, eyes narrowed and venom in his words.

"I don't look down on people I've only read about." He almost growled.

Slowly he backed up, stood up straight before looking at Skyler and then smiled at me.

Smiled.

He almost waved the photo in front of my face as he turned his back.

"Good luck on the meth hunt." He chuckled before walking out.

"Sorry, Hank. I'd better go with him, we're still on for tonight?" Sky asked, keeping the door shut for a second.

"Y-Yeah, hey-" I was distracted, still watching him walk away, almost as if he owned the place.

Before I could call him back, Steve walked in.

"Oh, uh. Am I interrupting or?" He asked.

"No, I was just leaving," Skyler spoke as she got after J, leaving Steve to ask.

"The fuck was that?"

 **J**

Perfectly done, I was actually pretty pleased with myself and my line of bullshit. Looking at the picture again, I saw just how much I'd changed in a few months. Skyler saw this too, but she waited until we were outside. She handed in her visitors card and outside we were.

"How did you do that to his gun?" She asked, an underlying tone of amazement in her voice.

"Glocks are easy enough to disassemble, I used to carry one just like it until I got sick and tired of the way it looked." I explained, placing the picture into my vest pocket.

I got in Sky's car as she put Holly back in her car seat, she got back in the driver's side and sat there for a few seconds.

"J, what is it exactly you do?" she asked.

I looked at her for a few seconds, wondering how to reply without her freaking out. Like most cases the truth was important.

"Normally I oversee important deals for the men and women I work for. We export everything, our island depends on trade to grow. Mainly I deal with the more risky stuff seeing as most people trust me." I explained as vaguely as I could.

"Export?" Sky asked.

"A lot of companies need middlemen in order to get their product into the US. Clothes and cars from Japan, but mainly we deal in cars and guns." I finished abruptly so I could get another word in.

"The guns come from ex com-bloc countries, they need to get rid of their stocks, so a factory converts them into guns that can be sold in the US through registered dealers. Everything is legit, sometimes we even get military contracts to provide weapons to allied rebels in the middle east." I started to elaborate my work to her.

She seemed shocked, the idea of someone my age working in the line of work I was in was uncommon, the truth was that there were more people my age working in my line of work than you'd think.

"Do you like the work?" She asked, almost as if I'd said I was a cashier.

"There's days where you just want to smash the whole thing to pieces. It's harder work than you think, I had to learn four new languages. Just to say 'hello' 'goodbye' 'yes' 'no' and most importantly 'fuck you' which is used more than you think." I joked.

"Really?" Skyler actually sounded interested, less than afraid.

That pretty much told me she knew Walt was a meth cook, I wasn't going to push my luck with her or anything.

"I already knew English, Mandarin, Cantonese and a little Italian. I had to learn German, Russian, Slovakian and believe it or not; French." I sighed.

She began to drive away, but she hadn't finished asking me questions.

"Do you travel to other countries?" She pressed.

"Depends, if it's a large shipment we normally send a group over, I usually get dragged in on occasional business. One trade we went to Yugoslavia, pricks decided it would be funny to paint roses on the containers." I sighed.

"What's wrong with that?" She interrupted, still focused on the road.

"Where I come from, a rose is taboo. Back when the exiles happened, they sent cards to the families explaining what was going to happen, on the cards, there was a rose. It's a reminder of what happened. The police killed almost Twenty exiles and for what? They didn't want to leave.

Motherfuckers promised us a better life, when we arrived on that island it was like a refugee camp, no houses worth living in, just tents and water bottles everywhere. Everything the US gave us to help us live had a rose on it.

When you give a rose to someone where I'm from, it means to get the fuck off the island or die."

I'd gone a little bit too far, my anger had gotten the better of me, it still hadn't gone away though.

"It's why I don't want to be in the country any more than I need to, I pretty much had to suck the president's dick to be able to get into this country. Now it's just the matter of a week or so and then I'm done here, never have to come back." I tried joking with her, but she didn't seem to appreciate it.

"What are you going to do with your dad?" She asked one final question when the car seemed to go silent after I'd answered.

"I'm going to set the fucker on fire and watch him beg for his life."

Silence, Skylar was physically shaken with what I'd said. Then again, it wasn't that often someone like me came along and told you he was going to set his dad on fire. The car seemed like the most uncomfortable place in the world, that was until I began to recognise the area Jesse lived in. I could easily find my way there.

"Sky, pull over." I sighed.

She looked at me, worried until she finally pulled over. We sat there for a second.

"I'm sorry." She began.

"Don't be, it doesn't surprise me that you didn't know about it." I sighed, knowing full well that she didn't know.

"How come no-one else knows about this?" She asked.

"Can you imagine what people would think if they found out the government practically became the Third Reich? Total bedlam, every person who was serious about the 2nd amendment would have picked up arms if they hadn't been told that people like me are dangerous. Then again, we are dangerous, but we aren't cattle." I began to hate the conversation even more.

"We certainly aren't dormant." I sighed, realising that I was getting too angry to continue.

"Thanks for the ride Sky." I sighed, getting out of the car.

She tried to stop me but I just kept on walking, it always amazed me how blind humans could be. It wasn't like my eyes were wide open, but I could remember being dragged out of a cot when my parents refused to leave their home.

I also remembered hearing about the deaths of supernaturals on the news, killed for refusing to leave their homes. I just kept walking until I ended at the front door of Jesse's house.

His car was still outside so he was still in the house but when I knocked there was no answer. Fearing the worst, I tried to open the door but it was locked.

"Jesse?" I yelled.

No answer, so I was stood there with no way of getting in. Something could have happened, the junkies who attacked me could have come back for me and ended up with Jesse and his girlfriend.

Hoping that no-one would see me, I formed a lockpick out of a little bit of ice. It took me 20 seconds to open the door, as soon as I got in I started looking for the two of them.  
My bag was still there, undisturbed except for the file still on the couch. I pulled the PPK out and went through the house looking for them.

Eventually, I ended up at the bedroom door.

"Jesse?" I gave one last call before I thought about what to do next.

No answer except a small muffled voice.

I didn't know what to think, so I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, slowly with my gun raised I moved into the room, checking the corners first before I did anything else. I was quiet as I performed my sweep, it wasn't until I noticed that both of them were sleeping in the bed, I couldn't smell blood so they were fine, plus I could hear them breathing.

I didn't shut the door as not to disturb them, leaving them to stay in each other company for a while longer.

In the meantime, I went back downstairs to my bag, opened the folder and slid the photo back into its original place, seeing Luke's face again gave me a little bit of hope that the trip out to the US wouldn't be a complete waste of time. I'd get something out of Walter, even if it killed me.


End file.
